


Wildflowers and Leaves

by ladyofrosefire



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 02 (Critical Role), Courtship, F/F, Femslash February, Flowers, courtship with negative charisma modifiers, not quite 5+1, post episode 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofrosefire/pseuds/ladyofrosefire
Summary: Beau has a problem. She knows Yasha likes flowers, but now that Nott's given Yasha a bouquet, she can't just do the same thing. The only logical solution is to give Yasha flowers until she finds her favorite.Set whenever Yasha/Ashley manages to get back to the rest of the Disaster Brigade





	Wildflowers and Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> “Many boys will bring you flowers. But someday you'll meet a boy who will learn your favorite flower, your favorite song, your favorite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won't matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does.”  
> \- Six of Crows, Leigh Bardugo

“All girls like flowers,” Beau muttered. “What kind of  _ bullshit _ ? Really. Ugh. Bull. Fucking. Shit.” She kicked a clod of earth as she passed it, stumbled a little, and caught herself with a hand on the side of the cart. “Fuck!”

She could hear Molly laughing, the asshole. He was sitting on the back of their cart, feet swinging, chattering away with Jester. Beau growled quietly and aimed a kick at another pebble. 

“You doin’ okay?” Fjord asked. 

She looked up, her face twisted into a grimace. “I’m  _ fine. _ ”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh--” she made another inarticulate noise. 

Then she paused and glanced around. Caleb was walking at the rear with Nott, acquiring a new coating of dust over his grimy clothes. Yasha was near the back of the cart, her greatsword in its sheath, but loosened from the belt and braced across her well-muscled shoulders. 

“Oooh…”

“Oh, shut it.” She muttered. 

Yasha was out of earshot, as long as she was careful. Beau planted a hand on the front of the cart, jogged a few steps, and then swung herself up beside Fjord. 

“It’s about the…  _ stupid _ flowers.” She muttered, propping her elbows on her knees. 

“What about ‘em?”

She was not going to look at him because he was going to be irritatingly calm and maybe a little bit smug and she just did not want to deal with that right now. “Well, Nott gave Yasha flowers. And she likes flowers. But now if  _ I _ give her flowers, I’m just copying a-- a little goblin. And that’s not gonna count for a whole lot. And she only just came back, and she might leave again any day. Y’know?”

“Huh.” Fjord shifted on the bench. “You’ve got a, uh, a thing. For Yasha?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Good taste.”

Beau grinned. “Yeah… I mean holy shit did you see her  _ arms _ ?” She stopped abruptly and lowered her voice further. “But what do I do? I’m not you. I don’t--  _ people _ . Can you show me how to people?”

“Beau, I have no idea.” He thought for a moment, taking one hand off the reins to scratch his chin. “We’re between towns, and we’re a bit strapped for coins…”

“So, flowers.”

“So flowers.” He agreed. “Sure, Nott gave her flowers first. Maybe you could find her favorite.”

Beau sat up straight. “Oh,  _ man _ ! Yeah, it’s on.” She gave Fjord a light punch in the arm and then jumped back down to the dirt road. “Thanks!”

 

Around mid-afternoon, Beauregard found a bunch of purple flowers with sort of heart-shaped petals. They grew in little bunches on the ends of stems that rose above clusters of rounded, ruffled leaves. Beau picked a few of the nicest and gathered her nerve.

“Hey!” She called, jogging back to their group. “Hey, Yasha!”

Caleb, Molly, Nott, Jester, and Yasha all turned to look at her. Beau swore under her breath as she slowed. While Caleb went back to minding his own business pretty quickly, Beau could feel their attention on her as she fell into step with Yasha. It took some doing. Yasha had long legs. Long, strong legs, and a purposeful stride. 

She was staring. 

Beau yanked her gaze all the way up to Yasha’s face. “Hi.”

“...hi.” 

“That’s a nice sword. Um.” Beau hesitated and then thrust the flowers out at Yasha. “Found these. For you. Um. Yeah. Anyway, I’m gonna head-- bye!”

“Got an admirer there, Yasha?” She heard Molly ask as she hurried back up to the front of the wagon. 

She’d stick a frog in his bedroll if it weren’t too mean to the frog. 

 

Of course, Yasha had to run off soon after that, and Beau had not found a good time before she had left to bring the flowers up in casual conversation. She wasn’t sure there was a way to casually ask ‘hey so did I discover what your favorite flower is and does that make you want to date me', but she was trying to be hopeful. And in the meantime, she was keeping an eye out for pretty flowers. It would be easier if Yasha were with them all the time, and if they had more money. If they had a few gold to spare, Beau could probably just buy herself a few drinks,  _ tell _ Yasha she has a thing for her, and have at it. Except for the bit where she’d be drunk and probably embarrass herself, and there would be no sex and probably not even any kissing. The lack of kissing definitely bothered her the most out of all of that. It was a problem.

But she did find some really pretty flowers just outside this one farm the day Yasha came back to their group. Beau might not be super great at the faith thing, but even she knew a sign when it popped up in a field. They were big, red blooms, with mostly brilliantly red petals and black centers. They had long stems and a heady, sweet smell that made Beau feel a just a bit dizzy. It was kind of sexy, she thought. Definitely romantic. She found the biggest, brightest blossoms and picked enough to make a modest posy.

Yasha was sitting on a felled tree and polishing her greatsword. Beau walked up. Then she waited. After a minute, she cleared her throat. Yasha looked up. 

“...Yes?”

“Cool sword.”

“It is.”

She shifted and kicked at a clump of grass. “You busy?”

Yasha looked down at her sword, and then back up at Beauregard. “…I’m sharpening my sword. No, I’m not busy.” 

“Okay.” 

Beau settled onto the tree next to Yasha and folded her legs up under her. Her knee bumped against Yasha’s thigh. She hesitated, and then scooched over about an inch. The rough texture of the bark dug into her ass and the backs of her legs. She shifted again, grimacing. The kind of stillness and focus the monks had demanded had never come readily to her. Yasha seemed to be fine. It wasn’t like she had a lot of armor between her and the tree, either. The discomfort meant that Beau’s impatience got to her before the low-level itch of her anxiety. She picked up the flowers and held them out to Yasha. 

“There are a whole bunch of these. You know. Over there.” She jerked her thumb at the field. “If you want more.”

For a second, it looked like Yasha was going to say something. Then they heard a yell and a sharp whinny from the road. Both women turned in time to see the horse go running past, his ears laid flat against its skull. Yasha leaped to her feet and charged after him, a hand outstretched for his bridle.

Beau unfolded her legs and flopped backward over the log. “ _ Fuck _ .”

 

They got caught in the rain a little over a week later. It pounded down on them, reducing the road to a muddy slick. The horse and cart labored through it. Water dripped down into everyone’s eyes and soaked through the canvases over their belongings. Only Caleb’s books in their oilcloth wrappings were safe. The wet even got to Jester, reducing her to huddling in the cart under her short cloak. With a sigh, Beau hopped down and hurried ahead to figure out where in the fuck she could find them some shelter. She was back a few minutes later, waving her arms over her head.

“There’s a house up ahead! This way.”

Fjord carefully steered the cart down the path, squinting through the dark and the rain to make sure they wouldn’t break the axle or something equally stupid. While he bargained with the couple inside for lodging and food, Beau poked around. Yasha unhitched the horse and took him into the little shelter beside the house. Beau watched her for a moment, her arms wrapped around her middle. Slowly, she walked forward, her steps muffled by the rain. 

“Hey.”

Yasha looked up. 

“Um... So you like horses?” 

“They’re quiet.”

Beau fidgeted with her jacket, twisting bits of it up to wring out the water. Yasha took a bit of sackcloth and began to rub the horse down. She seemed entirely focused, as though there were nothing more important than checking over the animal. Only when he was as dry as she could make him did she look up.

“Can I help you?”

Beau shifted from foot to foot and shrugged. “I just wanted to get out of the rain.”

Yasha nodded. “Me too.”

“We should go in.” 

She almost flinched after she said it. They got so few chances to talk. What was she doing throwing away one when she had it? It was too late to take it back now, though. Beau shifted, and Yasha echoed the movement. She pulled a frazzled braid over her shoulder to play with its end. 

“I’m not going inside.”

“Why not?”

“I’m sleeping out here. With Nott. It’s not safe for her in the house.”

Beau knew she was right. Nott might get stabbed in her sleep, for Ioun’s sake. But she couldn’t help the snarling twist in her chest. She’d been called selfish before and had always ignored it. What did they know, after all? Who were they to judge her? But now it gnawed at her. Beau barely held back a grimace. 

“Okay. We’ll. Uh. Bring you some blankets.” She offered and then ducked back out into the rain. “ _ Bring you some blankets _ . Nice fuckin’ job, Beau.”

She almost smacked into Fjord as he was leaving. 

“Hey--”

“Yasha’s in the-- shed thing.”

“Yeah, she’s gonna keep an eye on Nott. Is something wrong, Beau?”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “When did you all decide that? Actually, nevermind. I wanna get dry.” 

When she started to move past him, he reached out and caught her arm. “Hang on just a sec. Beau, what’s eatin’ you?”

She looked down at his hand. She could deck him, but that seemed like overkill. “Nothing.”

Fjord rolled his eyes, let go of her arm, and leaned against the doorframe. “Uh huh. Look, she likes you. Talk to her. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Beau grimaced and punched him lightly in the arm. “Sure. Fine. Thanks.”

He did have a point. 

The next morning, they paid the couple for their trouble and packed up. The road was still a muddy mess, but the sun was shining. Vibrant blue flowers opened around the edge of the house and in bunches among the rocks bordering the path. The trumpet-shaped blossoms grew in pairs on stubby, leafy stems. Beau stooped down and picked one. 

Yasha was back with the horse, checking over its harness. This time, she heard Beau coming and looked over. Her gaze flicked down to the flower. When she smiled, Beau felt her heart hammer a little harder. She held out the flower. Yasha looked at it for a moment, took it, and tucked it behind her ear. It fit in amongst the braids, its color somehow brighter against all of Yasha’s white and black. 

“It brings out your eyes.”

Yasha blinked at her. 

“Well-- eye. Actually, both of them. They’re cool. I don’t know if anyone could pull off having different color eyes, but it works for you. Have you always…?” She caught up with what she was about to ask just in time to keep herself from asking if Yasha  _ had always had different color eyes _ .

“Anyway, I’m gonna go check on Jester.”

Still, when Beau glanced back, she was almost certain Yasha was blushing.

 

Beau wasn’t exactly surprised that they’d been unceremoniously kicked out when they went to question the guild head, but his guards hadn’t needed to be so literal about it. They hadn’t needed to say some of the things they’d said, either. Beau scrubbed the blood from her knuckles at the pump by the stables. They’d gotten rooms at a decent inn, but Yasha was out here. With the horses. 

Beau paused at a trellis to pick a small, pink flower before she approached.

“So those guys were dicks.” She ducked as Yasha swung wide. “Jeeze! You’re gonna spook the horse. Hi. It’s just me.”

“...Sorry.”

Her hair was still a mess from where one of the guards had grabbed her by it to grapple her. Her eyes were too wide and too frantic. She fidgeted with the edge of her shrug. 

“You need to work it out of your system?”

Yasha shook her head. Slowly, she approached. Beau tilted her head up so she could keep looking her in the face. 

“Could you help with this?” She asked, and gestured at the tangled mass of her hair.

“Um… I’m not very good at it. But sure? Sure, yeah. I’ll try. Sit down.” 

They found an overturned trough and Yasha sat down on it, resting her elbows on her knees. Beau put the little flower down next to her, and then started in on the mess of Yasha’s braids. She’d been able to get it properly cleaned a couple of inns back. The mats were gone, although it was full of tangles now. Beau untied the bits of string that held it all together, handing them back to Yasha. Then she finger-combed through it. She didn’t say anything about the feathers she found at the nape of Yasha’s neck. 

“Your hair’s really soft.”

“Thank you.”

She went silent after that, gathering the braids together and twisting them so they would hold the rest of Yasha’s impossible mane of hair out of her face. One by one, she tied the little bits of twine back in. 

“Thank you,” Yasha said again. She raised the flower to her nose and inhaled before tucking it behind her ear. 

“Yeah, no big deal. How’s it feel?”

“Good.” She looked back at Beau. “I don’t want to go in yet.”

“Okay. So…”  She settled cross-legged beside her, “tell me how you learned to work with horses.”

“From the carnival.”

“...Okay.” She sighed. “Or we can just sit here.”

 

Yasha had to leave after that and was gone for almost two weeks. Beau still kept an eye out for flowers, but there was no need to pick them without anyone to give them to. She thought about picking up a book on flowers when Caleb went shopping, but the gold was better spent on drinks and healing potions. Eventually, though, Yasha did come back. Just in time, too, because they ran into bandits and they all wound up bloodied. Caleb almost went down again, and Yasha raged until she burned out.

Beau counted out the gold they had taken and unwound her bloody hand-wraps. Once that was stored, she wandered off to the river to wash off the grime of the fight. Yasha was there already, flat on her back in the long grass. 

“Hey.”

She had learned not to startle Yasha if she could help it. Once she got a wave, she came closer. There were little blue flowers on the ends of long stems scattered throughout the grass. Yasha toyed with one, spinning it this way and that. It had many little, pointy petals arranged in circles and the whole flower puffed up in a small dome. 

Beau sat down cross-legged. “What’s it called?”

“Cornflower,” Yasha replied.

“Do they smell nice?”

She held it out, and Beau leaned in to sniff. It was earthy and green and a little peppery, like something someone might want to eat. 

“Huh.” She looked from the flower to Yasha’s almost wistful expression. “Is this one your favorite.”

“I think so.” 

“You like blue?”

Yasha looked over at her. Beau shrugged awkwardly and debated lying flat in the grass to make her cobalt robes a little less obvious. But Yasha just nodded and took out her book. She flipped a few pages, stopped, and slipped the flower between them. Then she closed it tightly again. 

Beau scooted closer. “Can I see?”

Yasha flipped the book open again. There weren’t flowers on every page, but many of them had something. Nott’s bouquet was there, the petals slightly browned and pressed flat, but otherwise pristine. She perked up when she saw the purple flower she had given Yasha back at the beginning of all of this. 

“Hey!”

“You ran off before I could say thank you.”

She ducked her head. “Yeah. Well. I mean, I just handed you a fistful of weeds.”

Yasha frowned. “Geraniums. People grow them in their gardens sometimes.”

“Yeah. I don’t know flowers.” 

“Well…” Yasha sat up. Beau did not think it was just the heat of the sun making her cheeks flush. “I could show you.”

Beau rearranged her legs, propped her elbows on her knees, and gave Yasha an expectant look. After a moment, Yasha turned another page. The next one held the red flower Beau had given her that time the horse had bolted. The petals were a little battered, and the stem was crooked.

“You could have picked another one.”

“I didn’t want to.”

Beau felt her ears go hot. “Oh.”

Yasha cleared her throat and carefully turned the page. The next few were empty, so she flipped past until she found the trumpet-shaped flower.

“This is a gentian. I like these, too.”

Blue, Beau noted and smiled. 

“This one’s dog rose.” Yasha pointed to the flower on the next page, the pink blossom from the inn. Then she looked up. “Beau?”

“Uh huh?”

“Why have you been giving me flowers?”

For a few long moments, Beau did not do or say anything. Then she leaned forward and kissed Yasha full on the mouth. 

“I think you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, my plans to avoid jumping on any ships lasted approximately two hours. 
> 
> HMU at ladyofrosefire.tumblr.com for general posting and at ask-ladyofrosefire.tumblr.com for just fic.


End file.
